Becoming Q
by House MD Based
Summary: A sort of AU in which Q is the victim of a dark past which M so kindly gets him out of. COMPLETELY MADE UP Q BACKSTORY BY ME Basically an AU where the events of Skyfall and Spectre DO NOT HAPPEN, except the way Q and Bond meet. I've explained it better at the beginning of the first chapter :) (EVENTUAL BOND/Q ROMANCE) (Daniel Craig as 'James Bond' and Ben Whishaw as 'Q')
1. Chapter 1

**[Author's Note: PLEASE READ POINT 2 OR YOU WON'T UNDERSTAND THE STORY.]**

 **POINT 1:**  
 **Hey; long time no see? I don't remember the last time I posted :/ I have WAY to many things going on at the moment, so I figured I'm going to work on one story from each fandom persistently, day in day out, and the rest I'll update when I feel like it. I'm sorry, I have lots of sh*t going on in my life right now and I feel slightly encumbered by the responsibilities. I'm going to post this as a chapter on all my multichapter fics. I will try my best to update at least two maybe three stories on each fandom at least once every fortnight (Two weeks) Thanks for your**

 **POINT 2:**  
 **This story features a FICTIONAL backstory of Q that I HAVE MADE UP. IT IS NOT REAL. Right, now I've got that out the way on to the plot. Basically I guess you could kind of call this an alternate reality? I mean, it has the meeting of 007 and Q same as the one in Skyfall but Skyfall never happened, nor did Spectre so only the meeting will be referenced. This follows a story I have personally made up myself so if there's some loop holes, loose ends or things that make no sense either evidence wise or anything else, just remember this was written by a fifteen year old :) But as Q said "Age is no guarantee of efficiency"... but then again; "Youth is no guarantee of innovation" XD... If you don't understand what I just referenced then why are you here? GO watch the damn films.**  
 **ANYWAY I ramble. So the plot is: M got a twenty year old computer expert named Quinn Grey (Q. I made up a name...) out of something bad (Like a mafia but not a mafia, a group that inflicts those kinds of techniques) And she promises him she won't arrest him for anything he did whilst in that group as long as he agrees to work for MI6, he agrees under one circumstance:** _ **Nobody**_ **knows the shady agreements upon which Q is working for MI6. No one likes Q (The reason why will become apparent) and he has to meet Bond, whom everyone is convinced will probably hate Q but Q is surprisingly tough and has found several reasons why** _ **Bond**_ **should be scraping for** _ **his**_ **approval. The rest I'm sure you can figure out for yourself :)**

"I was sat, calmly sipping my tea and typing away on my computer. Minimal social distractions today, mainly due to the fact everybody hates me. I don't blame them to be completely honest, I mean; I'm twenty years old, sitting in a chair ninety percent of people in this very room have been training _thirty years_ for. When M drags a kid in from the street to do this job... I can't fault them for being bitter. I didn't exactly want to be here either though... I really didn't have much of a choice. But enough about that! I picked up my mug and took a swig of tea, all whilst carrying on typing algorithms with my spare hand  
"Good luck." wished another intern as he ambled idly past my desk, I didn't even dignify his statement with a glance away from my computer screen. I've been getting 'Good luck's all day, all because I'm meeting Agent James Bond. He's apparently a huge believer in the _old school_ ways, something we don't particularly pay attention to these days, and many have warned me he may not 'take a shine' to me. I can deal with Agent Bond not liking me, but the real question is: Can _James Bond_ deal with not liking _me_? I deal with all the tech-y stuff here, like tracking, hacking but most importantly I deal with equipment; Handling it, assigning it, even designing it and making it. He can't survive in the field without me.

Does James Bond know _that_?

I sure do.

I stared in the bathroom mirror. I'm not the most intimidating looking person to ever walk the earth. I mean, I'm tall yeah. But I'm skinny and about as muscle-y as a pipe cleaner. Untameable black hair that flops in every direction sits on my head. I was a not-so-proud owner of a pair of scrawny arms and legs that looked like they'd need assistance in lifting a sheet of paper. A black framed pair of glasses modestly cover two green eyes that I've been complimented on several times in my life. I run my fingers through my black hair, tousling it even more, as I let out a sigh

"Okay well... I guess I best be off..." I tell myself aloud... or I _thought_ I was telling myself

"You know, James isn't as bad as everyone makes out he is." A voice sounded and I flinched, whipping my body around to face a woman. She had brown eyes equivalent to a calming shade of mahogany brown and her hair was short strands of harshly wavy hair down to her sharp jawline.

"Y- You know him?"

"Oh yeah, I'm the reason you two haven't met before... I got him into a little predicament which caused him to take a few weeks off work." She replied as she walked out of the slight shadows and towards me "Are you nervous about meeting him?" She asked me and I swallowed hard, trying to hide my fear so obviously unsuccessfully, there's a reason I'm the computer guy, and not out there resisting interrogations in the field.

"You wouldn't believe me if I said no?"

"No, I would not, Mr Quartermaster"

"Then, yeah. I'm a little nervous."

"Don't be." She reassured "I mean, sure he'll make some harsh quips about your age, and what ever equipment you're handing him, but it's extremely unlikely he'll reject you completely." She told me and I replied with one cynical sounding laugh

"'Extremely Unlikely' seems to be the probability I'm encountering today." She smiled warmly before stating:

"You'll be fine." She glanced at a rose gold Rolex on her wrist "You're going to be late.". I quickly glanced at my watch before turning back to the mirror. I ran my hand down my tie, flattening it and picked up the black metal box I needed to deliver to him from off of the counter next to the sinks.

"Thank you...?" I questioned, turning to the woman, indicating she should tell me her name

"Moneypenny, Eve Moneypenny and don't mention it, Q." She replied with a smile.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two- The Meeting

[Q's POV]

I stood on the bottom concrete step, staring up at the huge gallery.

 _why here?_

I thought to myself. I mean yeah, I'm nervous, nervous as hell, but it's just hitting me now and I have no idea how I'm going to approach him. What if he isn't there? And I'm sat alone in an art gallery. What if he is there but I don't recognise him? What if-

"No." I whispered to myself "Solutions, not problems.". I ran my hands down my tie, flattening it but also wiping the nervous sweat from my palms. I drew in a deep breath and released it slowly before starting up the small steps towards the entrance.

Once inside I completely lost my senses. There were at least one hundered people in this one room and I definetly _do not_ do well in crowds... I stood just inside the door staring at a group of men and woman as laughter uproared from them. I whipped my head around and there were two women in the corner having an agrument. Do they realise how loud they're shouting? Everywhere I looked there seemed to be groups of people moving around or loudly laughing, talking etc. I _had_ to get out of there. I turned to the opposite side and I saw a doorway and through it seemed to be a less crowded room. I made a beeline for the place but I had to push past a tour group

"I-I'm sorry..." I stuttered to a tall man after I walked into his shoulder

"Don't mention it, hey you okay buddy? You seem a little-"

"I'm fine." I snapped before turning away and carrying on towards the door. Finally stumbling through I saw a room with paintings lining the walls and I knew this is where I was supposed to be, he was just around the corner at the end of this corridor. I took a few calming breaths before ambling slowly down the hall towards my objective.

I stood leaning against the wall, the doorway to Bond next to me. The room started spinning and I _knew_ this as a mistake. I didn't think it would be this hard to just meet someone. All the descriptions people have given me of 007 played in my head and all the whispers about how he's going to 'rip my head off' or how I wouldn't be able to 'deal with him' consumed my thoughts. It was a good job I was leaning against a wall or I'm ninety nine percent sure I would've collapsed by now. My heart started pounding audiably, my stomach lurched and my chest dropped. My breathing became stupidly heavy and I noticed I was getting several concearned looks from strangers. I stood up straight, moved slightly away from the wall and ignored the light headedness. I swallowed and flattened my tie before impulsively turning the corner with minimal preperation, like bing chucked straight into the deep end with your armbands, I was sure I was going to drown.

I spotted him, sitting alone on a bench staring at a painting and I slowly walked up, about a foor away from him, I pulled a black box out of my oversized coat pocked and held it, praying it wouldn't slip out of my sweaty hand. I silently approached him and sat down next to him. I kept my gaze on the painting in front of us the whole time but I saw him looking at me quizzically, looking me up and down before his gaze again landed on the painting.

"It always makes me feel a little melencholy," I stated and my heart pounded faster, what was I doing? I can't talk art with an MI6 agent that's just stupid, however it was impulsive and I couldn't stop it "A grand old warship being ignominiously hauled away for scrap." I paused and took in a breath before releasing it as a sigh "Inevitibility of time, don't you think?" I asked as I turned to look at him. I didn't expect and answer and I didn't get one, he carried on staring at the painting. I turned away again, looking at the masterpiece on the wall. This was going terribly "What do you see?" I asked, clinging onto the tiny shred of hope that mabye he'll give me an answer this time.

"A bloody big ship.". His voice was gruff and gravelly and he shifted his posture like he was about to get up. "Excuse me." He stated and moved. Panic surged through me. He was leaving, he can't leave I need to give him the stuff, he doesn't know I'm his Quarter Master... What do I do?

"Double oh Seven?" I asked. Well that was stupid, just use his code name in a public place, well done Q. He sighed and I knew he already didn't like me "I'm your new Quarter Master." I told him straight up, a small amount of confidence made itself apparent inside me having referred to myself with that name.

"You must be joking." He said, neither of us looked at eachother but I could see the faint signs of a smirk on his lips and I knew something was about to happen.

"Why? Because I'm not wearing a lab coat?" I asked sarcastically

"No, because _you_ still have _spots_ " He stated. Moneypenny was right, a quip about my age within the first minute. I smirked at his comment, thinking up one of my own

"My complexion is hardly relevant." I told him, my eyes fixed on the painting the whole time. He shifted slightly, telling me he was slightly uncomfortable with the situation

"Your competance is."

"Age is no guarantee of efficency."

"And youth is no 'guarantee' of innovation" He mocked me. Dammit... What do I say now?

"I can do more damage on my laptop, sitting in my pajamas before my first cup of Earl Grey" I saw him smirk out the corner of my eye "than you can do in a _year_ in the field." I stated, trying to earn some respect from this man sat beside me.

"Oh," He laughed slightly "So why do you need me?" He asked and I knew this wasn't going to end how I'd expected. I shrugged before stating:

"Every now and then a trigger has to be pulled.". His head whipped around and he faced me, almost urgently. I held my ground no matter how intimdating he was and kept staring at the painting

"Or not pulled." He replied and suddenly he sounded older, wiser "It's hard to know which in your 'pajamas'."

I let out an almost inaudiable breath to calm myself as I anticipated what was going to happen next. I gave in and my head slowly turned to face him. He was already staring at me, the corners of his mouth turned up in a self-satisfied smirk. "Q." He stated as he held a hand out for me to shake. His smirk turned into a smile, one that I reciprocated as I shook his hand, praying he wouldn't notice how nervously sweaty my hand was.

"Double Oh Seven." I acknowledeged him, like he did me. He turned away and smiled ahead at nothing, confusing me slightly. I pulled an envelope out of the inside pocket of my coat and handed it to him. "Ticket to Shangai, documentation and passport."

"Thankyou." He said as he carefully slipped it into his jacket pocket

"And this." I mentioned, handing him the small black box I had in my hand the whole time. He looked at it with an ever so alight confused look on his face. He took it from my hands in his own and flipped the lid open carefully, revealing a gun. "Walther PPK/S 9 millmeter short." I stated "There's a microdermal sensor in the grip" He looked up at me, and I could've swore I saw an impressed look cross his face "It's been coded to your palm print, only you can fire it." The look grew even more intense. "Less of a _random_ killing machine, more of a personal statement."

"And this?" He asked, gesturing to a square cut out in the foam inside the box.

"Standard issue radio. Activate it and it broadcasts your location." I explained "Distress signal." I cleared up. "And that's it."

"A gun," he started "And a radio. Not exactly Christmas, is it?" He joked as he shut the box.

"Were you expecting an exploding pen?" I asked, as I looked at him "We don't really go in for that anymore." I rose from my seat and turned to walk off. Stopping at the last minute I turned around to look at him. "Good luck out there in the field." I wished him "And, please return the equipment in one piece." I conlcluded before walking off.


	3. AUTHOR'S NOTE!

_**ARRGGHH!**_

 _ **Okay, back to reality for second:**_

 _ **Hello. Okay, I want to start by apologising so much, because I have not updated this in like forever and Oh My God I feel so bad and Like I'm sooo sorry.**_

 _ **Now we've got the apologetic paragraph (Is it long enough to be a paragraph? We'll just call it a sentence.) Sentence out of the way, lets get onto the good stuff (Well, not really good, not for me anyway... or you... Yeah it's not good):**_

 _ **1: I am not going to be updating this a lot. I will, but not a lot and not frequently, like it will be less than once a fornight (Two weeks, if you don't know what a fortnight is. It's two weeks)**_

 _ **2: I have exams, GCSEs, and I'm being told constantly I need to revise for this stuff and like I'm behind on my coursework for two of my subjects and I'm behind on a practical in my third so I've devoted a lot of my free time to school work, which yes, I know, it sucks. I'm not happy about it either.**_

 _ **3: I have recently decided on a very VERY ambitious career choice which demands I get A's in like every subject including maths and science which I SUCK at so I'm also devoting a lot of my time to extra work and research and basically just forcing myself to understand so I can move my grade up form like an D to an A real quick.**_

 _ **4: I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE HOW TO CARRY THIS STORY ON. Like, I try and I try but I just cannot get inspired to have ideas and even when I have ideas Ihaven't the motivation or skill to put those idea into words...**_

 _ **TO CONCLUDE, young Padawans, I am swamped with school work and the expectations of society and I have no inspiration or motivation to carry this on.**_

 _ **JUST REMEMBER:**_

 _ **This. Is. NOT. The End.**_

 _ **Cheerio old chaps for a good month or so :D**_


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